


Sleeping beauty

by gay_hockey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is an idiot, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Protective Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23867131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_hockey/pseuds/gay_hockey
Summary: "After a painfully heavy pause, Lydia finally speaks up. 'It’s like sleeping beauty... a sleep spell that can only be broken by true loves kiss.'"~Or, Stiles gets hit by a sleeping curse and Derek is the only one who can save him, provided he stops being so oblivious.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 14
Kudos: 376





	Sleeping beauty

**Author's Note:**

> so im rewatching teen wolf because current events, and it's rekindled my love for sterek. naturally, this means that i wrote nearly 4k words of fluff and pure dumbassery instead of sleeping last night.
> 
> this fic is super self gratuitous, and im not sorry about it at all. its also justice for scott mccall whom i love and i think deserves more appreciation in fic for being a good friend and all around good dude.

Derek is always half-aware of his pack in the back of his mind when they’re fighting. He tunes into their heartbeats to reassure himself, and to make sure he’s close enough to protect them if something were to happen. The thing about Stiles is that he’s especially easy to locate.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles wails as the witch they’re fighting let’s out a cry. She raises her hands and all around her, the earth moves, twisting and writhing until it shapes into a dozen zombies.

“Come on, come on,” Stiles chants. Derek can hear him frantically flipping through the pages of the magic book. “They’re vulnerable if you can cause enough damage to the vines that hold them together,” he yells.

He’s standing beside Derek, ever so slightly behind him, protected from the fighting. It slows Derek down to have Stiles there, but he doesn’t trust anyone else to keep him safe in battle. He has the most experience fighting, and besides, no one would ever dare to argue with him on the matter.

He slices through one of the monsters when it reaches him, and sure enough, it crumbles into the dirt. He’s doesn’t let it feel like a victory, he’s smart enough to know by now that it doesn’t matter how easy the monsters are to kill. The witch is trying to distract them, trying to tire them out so she can buy herself time to get to the Nemeton and use its power.

“We’re totally going to beat your ass, witch bitch,” Stiles yells at her. “You’re no match for alpha Derek’s claws and washboard abs!” Derek would roll his eyes if he wasn’t so busy with two of the zombies. They may be made of earth but they’re armed with sharp rocks and they’re surprisingly strong.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of light. Derek watches helplessly as the beam hits Stiles square in the chest. He collapses so quickly Derek barely has time to reach out and catch him as he falls.

He realizes his mistake a moment too late, as a knife slices into his shoulder. The witch must have been targeting him, knowing he was the alpha of the pack. She’s hit him where he’s weakest: Stiles. He sets Stiles unconscious form down gently and raises himself up, letting out a roar as he shifts.

The rest of the fight goes by in a blur. All his brain seems to register is where Stiles is laying on the ground, and keeping the witch away from him as he fights her. He moves on pure instinct. There’s pain in his side, then the flashing of claws and teeth. He hears arrows flying and wolves growling and shouting all around him... and then it’s over.

When he looks down at himself, he notices his hands are covered in dirt and blood. His pants are ruined and his shirt has been reduced to a couple of loose shreds hanging off his shoulders. The witch is making her painstaking retreat, back into the woods and away from Hale territory.

Derek looks around to find everyone in about the same shape he is. Exhausted, disoriented, yet somehow still alive. Then his eyes fall on Stiles

The sight snaps him into action. He’s rushing over and crouching down next to the inanimate body. He sneaks one hand under Stiles’ head and lays the other on his chest.

“What happened” Scott is crowding into his space, sounding just about as concerned as Derek feels.

“He was hit by a spell,” Derek says, without taking his eyes off Stiles. “He just collapsed.” He listens closely. He can hear a heartbeat and steady breathing, it’s slow but not laboured so he assumes Stiles isn’t physically hurt. He brings his hands up to cup Stiles’ face, brushing his thumb gently against a bruised cheekbone.

“Stiles, wake up,” he pleads.

He gives him a gentle shake, but it doesn’t change anything. His heart continues its steady thumping.

“We have to take him to Deaton.”

Derek scoops Stiles up in his arms before Scott is even done the sentence.

The trek back to their cars is painstakingly long. The fighting had taken them much further into the woods than he had originally noticed. Derek is hyper-aware of Stiles pressed against his chest, and the weight of him in his arms. His head is lolled back, mouth hanging open. His limbs swaying with each of Derek’s steps over the uneven ground of the forest.

When they finally arrive at the cleaning, Derek carefully lays him in the backseat of the Jeep and pulls the keys out of his pockets. Stiles is just going to have to forgive him for this later.

“I’m riding with you,” Scott says, already jumping into the passenger's seat.

Derek knows the rest of the pack will follow so he takes off towards the vet clinic without stalling. Scott doesn’t bother trying to talk to him on the ride over and Derek appreciates him for it. Scott knows how Derek gets when a member of the pack is in danger. Scott also knows how Derek gets about Stiles so there’s no point trying to calm him down.

...

They lay Stiles down on the metal table and Derek is distantly aware of Scott explaining the situation to Deaton. Derek just focuses on running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. It’s matted with dirt and dead leaves from his time spent on the forest floor.

Derek can’t help feeling guilty for it. He was the one responsible for guarding Stiles, and he’d failed. He’d let Stiles get hurt and he knows he won’t forgive himself if the spell ends up being dangerous. He can’t believe he let Scott convince him again that it was safe to bring the human into battle. Derek knows Stiles can stand his ground. He’s a quick thinker and surprisingly resourceful, but what good is that against a psychotic witch with an army of vengeful zombies.

“Would you boys give me a moment to examine the patient in private?” Deaton says, dragging Derek back into the present.

“Uh,” he says simply. Scott wraps an arm around his shoulders and guides him towards the hallway.

He’s pacing in front of the door when Lydia, Isaac, and Allison walk in. He gives them a brief nod in greeting, and they all give him strange looks he doesn’t bother trying to figure out.

The door squeaks open and Derek lets out a shaky breath. Deaton’s expression doesn’t betray his verdict.

“Is he okay?” Scott utters the words that seem to have gotten stuck in Derek’s throat.

Deaton waves them back into the room and Derek immediately gravitates to Stiles’ side. He looks the same, unconscious and peaceful, like he’s sleeping. Derek reaches out despite himself and lets himself intertwine their fingers.

“He’s in something of a magical coma,” Deaton explains. “It’s nothing life-threatening and it can easily be cured, given the right set of circumstances.” He pauses and lets out a chuckle. “It’s a spell far better suited for a fairytale than for the likes of a Beacon Hills werewolf pack.”

He hears Lydia let out the smallest “Uh oh.”

“I assume you’re familiar with the spell, Ms. Martin,” Deaton gives her a small smile.

“I read about it,” she confesses, “but I always thought it was some sort of supernatural joke. I didn’t think it was something that could work in real life.”

“Wait, what is it? What’s going on?” Scott interrupts. Derek has never been more thankful for Scott. He seems to be the only other person around who is sufficiently worried about Stiles right now.

After a painfully heavy pause, Lydia finally speaks up. “It’s like sleeping beauty... a sleep spell that can only be broken by true loves kiss.”

Derek's mind blanks.

“Not exactly true love’s kiss, but a kiss from the person he loves most, provided they feel the same way should do the trick.” Deaton is saying. “Its actually quite a convenient spell for a witch to use in a fight because of...”

Derek tunes him out.

He feels as though the ground is sliding out from underneath his feet. He takes a cautious look around the room. Everybody seems to be looking at their shoes, picking at their nails, refusing to meet his gaze.

They all know, of course they all know. Derek tries to hide it, but he can’t help how protective he is of Stiles, or how he trusts him more than anyone. He can’t help that he always entertains Stiles’ ridiculous ramblings, or that he sometimes lets himself slip up and smile, sometimes even laugh when Stiles is around. He knows they’ve all it seen it and they’re smart enough to put the pieces together, even if, fortunately, Stiles has yet to do so.

But most of all, Derek knows that they know just as well as he does that Stiles doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s never going to compete with Stiles’ lifelong crush on Lydia, especially now that the pair are finally getting close.

“Lydia if anyone has a chance it’s you,” he says. It sounds weak and hollow to his own ears. He doesn’t dare to look anyone in the eye as he says it, instead keeping his eyes trained on his and Stiles’ hands intertwined on the hard metal table.

“I’m not so sure...” he hears the girl say, ever so softly.

He can hear the pity in her voice and it makes his gut wrench in the worst way. He supposed to be their alpha. He’s supposed to be strong and impenetrable but here he is, clearly broken up about a boy who doesn’t love him back.

He raises his gaze to meet Lydia’s and puts as much of his alpha strength into his words as he can. He knows it won’t affect her like it would a wolf, but he hopes it’s enough to conceal his hurt. “Just do it.”

Lydia gives him a look he can’t quite decipher.

“Derek,” she starts, her tone cautious. “I don’t think I’m-“

“Help him,” he cuts her off. It sounds desperate and pleading, but he doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t need to hear her excuses. He needs to see Stiles okay.

She gives him one last look, then turns to Allison who gives her a small nod. She leans down and presses the most chaste peck onto Stiles’ mouth. Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand, listening for a change in his breathing.

“Come on wake up,” he pleads, but nothing happens. He gives Lydia an accusatory look. “You must’ve done it wrong.”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “What kissed him wrong?” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re unbelievable.”

She leans down again and kisses Stiles again. This time it’s a real kiss, a soft press of lips– Derek looks away.

“See? Nothing’s changed!” Lydia exclaims, gesturing toward Stiles’ peacefully sleeping face. “God, you’re such an idiot, Hale.”

She turns and grabs Allison’s hand, leading her out of the room. “Scott, come get me when he finally figures it out. We’re going to wait in the hall.”

“Ya, I’m gonna uhh...” Isaac says, and then his footsteps are quickly following the clicking of Lydia and Allison’s heels.

Derek ignores them. If they don’t care enough to help save their friend, a member their of their pack, then he’ll just have to figure it out himself.

“Stiles, please wake up.” He leans over, lips gently brushing at the shell of Stiles’ ear. “Come on Stiles, I need you,” he whispers.

He swears for just a second that he hears Stiles’ heartbeat jump, but it’s back to normal when he focuses in on it.

He turns to Scott who’s now sitting on the other side of the metal table, holding Stiles’ other hand. “What do we do now?”

Scott gives his best friend a long, pondering look, glances over at Deaton who’s suddenly preoccupied with sorting through a drawer in the far end of the room, then finally turns back to Derek. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?” Derek says, exasperated. He’s felt one step behind everyone else since they’ve gotten to the clinic and he’s sick of it.

“That Stiles... um....” Scott gives his friend another apologetic glance. “Well, that you’re the one only who can help him.”

Derek let’s put a dry laugh.

“Oh my god, you really don’t know.” Scott gives him a pained look. “Just kiss him, I’m going to go get the girls and Isaac.”

Then Scott leaves Derek standing there with his heart beating harder in his chest than it had been earlier that night when faced with an army of dirt monsters.

“Stiles...” he starts, but he’s not sure what he’s trying to say. Maybe he wants to ask for permission, or maybe he’s trying to apologize, either way, he can’t seem to get the words out.

He forces himself to push the thoughts aside and slides a hand under Stiles’ head. He leans forward ever so slowly, as though he’s giving Stiles a chance to let him know if he’s making a mistake. Stiles remains perfectly still.

When their lips finally meet, Derek feels himself let out a breath he hadn’t realized the was holding.

Stiles’ lips are warm, ever so slightly chapped and taste like salt and dirt, and the way Stiles always smells. Derek lets his lips linger for a moment, almost letting himself enjoy it before he pulls back.

For a second, nothing happens and Derek feels like he might throw up, but then Stiles’ hand twitches where Derek is still holding it. He blinks a few times, rubbing his hands over his face and groaning as he pushed himself up.

Scott must have been listening in, because everyone floods back into the room. Scott rushes over to his friend, wrapping his arms around him in an aggressive bro hug.

“What happened?” Stiles grumbles. His voice is thick with sleep, and Derek can’t help but want to kiss him again.

He can still feel the warmth of Stiles’ mouth on his; his lips are tingling with it. It takes everything he has not to bring up a hand and touch them.

Before anyone can say anything, he rushes “Lydia saved you.”

He can feel their eyes on him, but no one seems to argue.

“Oh uh... Thanks, Lydia,” Stiles says and spreads his arms open, inviting her into a hug. She laughs and wraps her arms around him.

Derek feels a tug at his heart, but it’s for the best. Stiles gets to think the love of his life saved him, and Derek gets to suffer in silence.

Scott grabs his arm, dragging him out to the hallway. The door is barely swung shut before he starts whisper shouting.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Derek?”

Derek gives him a look he hopes communicates just how torn up he feels about the whole thing, and that he doesn’t need a Scott McCall lecture right now.

The look doesn’t work.

“What the hell do you think it means that you were able to bring him back when Lydia couldn’t?” Scott’s tone leaves no room for interruption so Derek doesn’t even try. “Stiles obviously has feelings for you, and you’re either too stupid or too stubborn to see it. I know I haven’t always been your biggest fan, but he’s my best friend and I’m not going to let you continue to mess this up. You have to be honest with him. I know he’d want you to.”

Derek doesn’t say anything to that, just clenches his jaw. He doesn’t know what to do with this information, because maybe the spell was wrong, that he’s willing to believe, but he can’t believe that Scott could be wrong about Stiles, not about something like this. Scott knows Stiles better than anyone else, and if Scott tells Derek he has to talk to Stiles, far be it for Derek to think himself above that advice. All he wants is to see Stiles happy, after all.

He follows Scott back into the examination room. When they enter, Lydia looks up and gives him an unimpressed look.

“Well, I’m no longer needed here, so I’m going home or get my beauty sleep.” She picks up her handbag on the way out and marches towards her car, with Allison and Isaac in tow.

“I’m actually gonna catch a ride with them,” Scott says, giving Stiles a quick wave. “Good to have you back, buddy.” He gives Derek one last meaningful look before he runs off after the others.

That leaves Derek and all his nervous energy, with Stiles and Deaton in the clinic.

“The spell seems to have completely worn off,” Deaton is telling Stiles. “You might still feel some drowsiness and probably shouldn’t drive for a while, but you’ll be just fine.”

“Thanks, doc!” Stiles says, jumping down from the table. He turns to Derek. “Does that mean you’re driving me home then?”

...

They spend the car ride in silence. Derek nervously taps his fingers against the steering wheel. Stiles has this smirk on his face that he seems to think he’s doing a good job at hiding.

When they finally pull into Stiles’ driveway, Derek takes a deep breath and turns to look at Stiles. He’s so beautiful in the dim evening light. It makes his features look sharp, and his eyelashes cast shadows onto his cheekbones. His hair is a mess, but his eyes are wide and hopeful, and he’s got that damn smirk still playing on his lips.

“Do you have something to say, Derek?”

Derek grunts a little. He can’t seem to find the right words. _I’ve been in love with you for years and I don’t know if you feel the same way but please say you feel the same way because I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t,_ might be coming off a bit strong.

“Use your words, Derek,” Stiles teases.

“Shut up.”

Stiles reaches out and hooks his index finger around Derek’s. It’s such a small touch but it seems to ground Derek, sending sparks through his entire body and bringing him back to reality. He takes a few deep breaths.

“I um... I kissed you,” he confesses, ever so softly.

Stiles laughs. “I know. Lydia told me while Scott was yelling at you in the hall.”

“Shit, is that why you’ve been all...” He gestures vaguely at Stiles’ smirking face.

The smirk breaks into a full-on toothy grin. “You love me, Derek Hale.”

“Shut up,” Derek says again, but it’s soft, with no bite behind it. He looks sheepishly at their hands and interlaces their fingers. He likes the way Stiles’ hand fits into his, his slim pale fingers weaving perfectly between Derek’s.

“Do you want to kiss me again?” Stiles asks. His face is open and vulnerable and it makes Derek’s heart melt.

He reaches out to rests a hand on Stiles’ neck, drawing him in. He leans in to meet him in the middle, ignoring the uncomfortable press of the centre console against his hip.

When their lips touch, it’s even better than the last time, because Stiles is pressing up against him soft and firm and before long he’s nipping at Derek’s lower lip and licking his way into Derek’s mouth. He loses time for a bit, completely lost in exploring Stiles’ mouth.

Derek let’s out a soft moan and Stiles pulls away, laughing. His eyes are bright and his smile is wider than Derek has ever seen it and he can’t believe he did that.

“I love you,” he says. The words spill out of his mouth so naturally he can’t believe it took him this long to say it.

Stiles’ smile seems to grow even brighter. “I love you, too.”

Derek let’s out a little laugh because he can’t believe it took them this long to get here. He reaches out again and reels Stiles in to kiss him. It’s slower and less needy than the last time, but just as good. Everything around Derek smells like Stiles and joy and arousal and it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced.

He’s drawn out of it by a bright light flooding the car. It takes him a moment to realize it’s the porch light and that there’s someone standing in the doorway of the Stilinski household.

“Stiles aren’t you coming in– oh...”

Derek looks up and makes direct eye contact with Sherif Stilinski. He raises his hand in a shy half-wave.

He rolls down his window. “Good evening Sherif,” he calls out.

The sheriff returns his wave. “Yeah, uh...” he gestures back towards the door. “I’m just going to... Stiles, remember to turn off the light when you come in.”

The moment he leaves them, Stiles bursts out laughing, burying his face in Derek’s shoulder.

“I should probably head in,” he says, finally. “I’d invite you but I don’t really want to push it for tonight.”

Derek gives him a warm smile and leans over to kiss him again, soft and chaste. “That’s okay.”

“Are you going to be able to get yourself home okay?” Stiles asks.

Derek kisses him again, just because he can. “I’ll be fine.”

He steps out of the car and makes his way over to the passenger’s side, where he opens the door. He leans into Stiles’ space again but doesn’t kiss him. This time he just buries his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck and breathes him in. He cards his fingers through the short hair at the base of Stiles’ neck like he’s wanted to do for so long.

“Oh my god, is this some weird wolf shit?” Stiles says, breath hitching.

“I love you,” Derek whispers in Stiles’ ear, and feels the shiver that runs down Stiles’ spine. He does it again, just to replicate the effect, and presses a kiss onto Stiles’ neck. Then another, and another, nipping at the skin soft there, just to see how Stiles will react. 

“I love you too, Derek,” Stiles says, breathy and gorgeous.

Then the porch light flashes. Derek looks up to see the sheriff again, looking rather threatening for a man in a bathrobe.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he calls out.

Stiles laughs and jumps out of the jeep. “I’ll see you later.” He tells Derek with a wink that seems more like he’s having a stroke.

Derek laughs, as he watches him walk up to the house. He’s in love with an idiot.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, kudos and comments are super appreciated!


End file.
